Tuma's Conversation
by crankyman7
Summary: After losing the glatorian match with Mata Nui and being banished from the Skrall Tribe, Tuma encounters a mysterious shade that tries to give him valuable advice. This is set after shortly after The Legend Reborn and before the arrival of Makuta Teridax on Bara Magna.


He scrambled across the sandy dunes, perspiration dripping down his body. The sun beat down on him from above. In these naked dunes, there was nowhere to hide from the malevolent rays. He jabbed his sword into the dirt and sat down beside it. As he did so, pain flared across his back. A cry escaped his lips, followed by a curse.

"I am the mighty Tuma, eh?" he snarled. "Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

He remembered the reason for the duel, but he didn't focus on it. It was the end result that displeased him- nay, humiliated him.

"I am the might Tuma- ha! Mighty indeed! Stabbed by a shield…"

He wasn't sure what had come over him. What was it the warrior had said?

_ Arrogance can topple giants_.

"No," he muttered. "But idiocy can."

"What came over me," he went on. "It was almost as if someone were controlling my actions- changing my very characteristics. Almost as if I were no longer in control of myself-"

He stopped.

"No, it couldn't be," he decided. "I just got overconfident. I've only myself to blame for that.'

'Still, it's not as though that Agori did any better. He wanted control and he got it. The result? Total defeat of course. That's all the fool could ever achieve."

He'd heard something of what had happened from one of the Bone Hunters. Something about Metus turning into a snake and the Glatorian getting a whole lot of new powers. The Bone Hunter was almost shell-shocked, and it had taken a few threats to get him to say as much as he had.

As Tuma began to stand up, a voice beside him said:"You look like someone who's lost his way."

Tuma jerked his head about in all directions. There was no one in sight.

"I'm right next to you," said the voice.

"Disembodied spirit," Tuma growled. "I don't know who you are, but prepare to feel my wrath if you do not explain your presence here."

"Disembodied is _almost_ the right word," said the voice, chuckling mirthlessly. "All that's left of me is two atoms and a voice. And in a few hours, not even that will remain."

"Who are you?" Tuma asked.

"I am- was -a conqueror. A warrior of great renown. I followed a leader who served another faithfully and well. And when one of my comrades betrayed that leader out of ambition, I stood with him."

"You chose the way of victory, then," said Tuma.

"I chose the way of survival," the voice replied. "I feared death, but not so much that I lost my moral compass. You see, I was told to execute my former leader."

"And you didn't?"

"I imprisoned him under a volcano. I gave him a chance to live."

"Why are you telling me all this, spirit?" Tuma said in an irritated tone. "I'm not one for sob stories."

"But for a cautionary tale?" said the voice. "You have the appearance of a warlord yourself."

"I am Tuma, to you," the Skrall snarled.

"And your followers cast you out?"

"You either know too much spirit, or your insight is too keen."

"It's the latter, I suppose," said the voice. "But I'd say you've had it easy. Me, I had to live every day knowing that my deeds were evil. That all those I had formerly protected hated me for my reputation. That I had betrayed my true purpose."

"This is boring me, spirit," said Tuma. "Cut to the chase."

The voice sighed. "In the end, I tried to do some good again, but I failed. I then discovered our glorious new leader had betrayed us to certain death. In my idiocy, I warned the very one I had betrayed by my goodness…and she reduced me to this state."

"Then that's one thing we have in common," said Tuma. "I too made a stupid mistake, and I'm paying for it."

"But you will live, and I will die shortly," said the voice.

"That's true," said Tuma. "And when I get my chance, I will avenge myself. As for you…" He laughed. "You will die without ever having achieved anything 'noble'. So much for your goodness."

"I gained something better than recognition," said the voice. "I gained forgiveness."

"For all that's worth," said Tuma.

"After so many centuries, I find its worth a lot to me," said the voice. "When I became like this, I latched onto a certain mask with every last speck of my body that remained. I held on as it was blasted into space. I spoke to the one inside the mask…the one I had turned my back on so very long ago by betraying my leader…and he forgave me."

"And then you wound up here, in time to tell me your little stories," Tuma jeered. "I'm so happy for you."

The voice was almost sad as it spoke again. "If you take nothing else from my tale, take this," it said. "It's not too late for you to change things, to change yourself."

"I'm happy with who I am," Tuma growled. "And the only thing that's going to change is my social status. I'll find myself more warriors and make more conquests."

"And then one day, you'll be sitting on your throne, sipping your drink, the whole world beneath your feet," said the voice. "And you'll think to yourself: what have I gained? What have I truly accomplished that is so worthwhile? And you'll be forced to confront the truth: that you have achieved nothing of value. In that day, remember my words. Remember me. Remember Krika."

The voice ceased speaking, leaving Tuma to ponder its words. After a few moments, he said: "Spirit? Are you there?"

There was no answer.

Slowly, painfully, Tuma rose to his feet. Grasping his sword in his hands, he strode wearily towards the west.


End file.
